Swan didn't know the fine details of whatever electrical wiring and fine details went into the wavering lamps above him. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, tipping back the flask and grunting at the harsh burning quiver it gave his whole body. He didn't know what it was, truth be told, but he didn't care. It was a lazy day here on Cancer station.

No drops, no action. Nothing to do. Swan couldn't have been more bored out of his life! And even with all the possible action he could be getting, Swan was probably too drunk to pay attention to it. He liked the Cancer on most days. There were people and then not-people. Always something to do, always something to see, someone that needed an ass kicking or otherwise.

Darvish...he didn't know where Darvish was. And he was too drunk to care.

Swan cricked his neck from where he leaned against the side of the bar called the Arcade. It was just like you'd expect for the same lowlifes that meandered this level of stations Cancer. Swan tilted his head, already feeling the alcohol swilling it and he coughed when a woman with high-hair walked by.

She was fine, and had an ass he wanted to take a bite out of. Because what bloodthirsty space marauder didn't love a thick juicy steak? Preferably medium-rare. Swan snickered, about to take a second swig when he saw someone else pass by his vision. He had to do a double take, and his breath hitched, eyes dilating.

Red... Hair... Where? On her, that thing. The pink fleshy one in the black jacket that just walked by him like it was nothing. As if she knew where she was and where she was going and he looked down to her steak.... Hm, a suitable substitute if anything else.

Tucking the flask back into his pocket, Swan hissed quietly to himself, and casually strode along behind her, watching her, and prying through the crowd when he was close enough. Inch by inch, foot by foot, he could hear her, smell her, and gods it was good. He hissed again and reached out for that steak, wanting to sink his nails into backside just like the bloody good meat it was.

“Hey, there. Walking all on your lonesome?” he purred, squeezing that steak and giving her a wink.

The day before she had arrived, somehow managing to persuade her way onto a ship to Cancer. It was far enough away and she hadn't been here in quite some time. It was merely a stop on the endless journey of running from the multitude of people chasing after her. Money was always such a fickle thing causing people to do the craziest of acts just to get it back. I mean... it wasn't like she stole it or anything. So what if she lost a bet and high tailed it as far away as possible.

If anything Dez was thinking of what she could take next to pawn off at her next stop in hopes of alleviating some of the debt she had acquired. These thoughts alone were what led her to Arcade. A bar was the easiest place to target people, half of them would be too drunk to even remember her face the next day anyway. Not to mention the always looming possibility of making more bets in hopes of turning things around.

As she made her way through the crowd Dez suddenly felt a hand in the most unpredictable of places. Immediately she stopped in her tracks and slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder. Turns out she actually had to look up after observing the hand touching her behind. This man, a Feneri by her guess, stood at least half a foot taller than her or more.

"Not anymore I guess." Dez shrugged, her eyes only skimming over him for a minute before she turned her attention back to the crowd. "Hold my hand or my ass I don't care but I was actually headed over there."

With her index finger, she pointed towards the counter where a bartender stood.

Swan was drunk. Him an alcohol were rarely a good mix. And once he got going there was hardly any stopping him. Not unless you wanted to lose a hand or a couple of teeth. Swan's vision tunneled, honing in in on his target. So even as his hand copped a feel on her ass, his grin was surly and his teeth gleamed white in the bright lighting.

They made him temporarily dizzy. And the smell of lowlife prey that puffed up a few clouds of herbal downers amidst the clanking of glasses and other such items did nothing to distract him from his current target. Because this ass was a lot like one of those glass orb trinkets with little playful scenes in them. They were often so cute, all Swan wanted to do was smash them.

And he'd done so on a number of occasions. Not a lot of shop owners were too keen on having him lingering around their knick-knacks.

"Ohh. That's a good destination. I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to join you," he replied, letting his tongue play at the hooked corner of his canine. All this teeth were pretty sharp. It made for lots of scary smiles.

He kept his hand on her ass for a short time and slowly let it slip off, tilting his head down to admire the rest of her. "This your first time coming to the Arcade?" he asked levelly, ignoring the snickering he heard behind him, and his ear twitching to the words 'blue stick.' Shit heads. "You don't look like this is your first time. But it never hurts to ask."

"If I said no I wouldn't be surprised if you followed anyway." Her tone a murmur as she made her way towards the bar in question. This man was definitely drunk and based on how he was following her like a dog he was exactly what she needed right now. In her mind, she was already going through a checklist of things she could take from him.

Climbing up onto a stool she slid to face the bartender, signaling for his attention before turning her attention back towards the ass grabbing man. "Could be my first time... or not?" Dez shrugged as she tried to remember if she had visited this particular bar on Cancer before. "They all start looking the same after a while, to be honest."

Her gaze quickly shifted towards his belt and the lovely looking blade sent her eyes into a sparkle. Immediately she reached out for it, grabbing at it eagerly. "What a cool looking blade!" Internally she was already gauging how much she could fetch for it.

By the time they were seated at the bar, Swan had taken his hand off her ass. Sure he could drink with one hand on her ass and the other around a shot of whatever it was the bartender wanted to pour into his glass. He wasn't going to argue. Yeah, he was already buzzed and Swan was nothing short of talented.

"Ain't that the damn truth," Swan grinned. The bartender nodded to the Feneri, staring at the blue glowy bits on his face. That wasn't a face one could easily forget and the number of teeth that Swan presented might have been unnerving. In the dim lighting it might even be charming, however. Swan was certainly a charming fellow. "Strig. Two of that blue stuff."

Swan twitched when this woman suddenly....she ... "Don't," Swan said decisively. The moment she reached out to touch it, so did Swan and he reached out and gripped her wrist firmly. "Touch. We've only just met after all."

The drinks came and he carefully released her arm, placing it firmly back on the counter. "How about a drink instead. Name's Swan. You got a name?"

An open hand quickly fell limp as the man grasped at her wrist. At first, she was confused chewing on his words in her own mind before delivering some of her own.

"Dez..." So his name was Swan, he sure as hell didn't look like one, or act like one for that matter. Already he was a big ball of hypocrisy with both his actions and his name pointing at exactly that.

"So let me get this straight." Dez finally pulled her wrist back when he released it, opting to reach for the glass of blue liquid instead. However, she did not lift it to her lips but instead moved the cup so that the liquid whirled inside. "You can grab my ass but I cannot touch your shit?"

Her brow was raised in accusation as she stared him down. "Hardly seems fair" Dez then lifted the glass to her lips, taking a whiff of the liquid before again setting it down. "I mean... grab all you want... no harm ever came from copping a feel." And then she was at it again, taking her other hand to reach for the knife this time around.

"Nobody said life was fair love. But if you want an even playing field, I'm in," Swan murmured, tilting his head. He shifted in his chair and folded his hands in front of him, threading his fingers together. The Arcade was actually not a bad dive. A little scummy, but most bars were that didn't require a strict dress code. Swan always hated those.

A stray hand pushed hair from his face and he sniffed. "So other than my sword, what is it of mine that you wanna grab?" he asked with another grin, the little expanse of skin underneath his lips just at the base of his cheekbones, where his second jaw did most of the munching death. Or all of it.

It'd been a while since he had his jaw securely around something that needed to die.

"We can negotiate. No need to such hard feelings in a nice place like this," he murmured and licked his lips.

So this was the game he was playing then? Dez bit her lip as she thought of all the 'things' on Swan she could grab right now.

"Let your imagination run wild with what you think I want to grab." Her eyes suggestively flicked downwards before she spun in her stool, picking up the blue drink again but this time taking a small drink before she held the glass at her lips.

"I bet I will have my hands on more than just that blade by the end of the night." Such a simple statement from anyone else... but this was Dez. Bets were something she took very seriously. Lifting the glass again she took a long drink, a trickle of blue liquid grazing her chin and then neck as it trickled downwards.

She was trying to bargain now was she? Perhaps. Yet the play in her voice was rather unmistakable. Swan was intrigued, he couldn't lie to himself like this. And the prospect of having such tantalizing quarry before him was a little bit more than he'd had in a long time. Just what he wanted, he wasn't sure just yet. He was still gauging her, sizing up just what it was she possessed.

Everybody had an asset, or assets worth trading for. Or taking. Swan wasn't a stranger to that dance. If he had a tail he'd be swishing and flicking the shit out of it right now. Swan made a soft noise and played with the rim of his glass.

He wasn't going to drink. Particularly because his head was already swimming.

"I'll take that wager," Swan quirked an eyebrow at her, rubbing his hand at the glowy marks on his chin. "Okay then, so what's the contest? Because if it's how much you can drink, you've already lost." Start with a bluff, see how much she would bite.

Adrenaline was already flowing from the moment Swan agreed on the bet. All of this had just become something so much more to Dez. Wagers were never something she could pass up. So now the true question arose, what was it they were betting on? His mention of it being a drinking contest almost made that the optimal choice.

A devilish grin then covered Dez as she signaled for another drink. "Oh but Swan haven't you heard?" Dez licked her lips as she leaned back on the stool, resting an elbow on the counter in the process.

"Everybody loves an underdog."

From there it was game on. Dez even went as far as slipping her jacket off and hopping off the stool to tie it around her waist. Just another tactic as her ass was now covered.

"So what about you? What else do you want to get your hands on before this night is over?"

A bet was a bet. And no matter how you turned that bet and examined it, there would be the bottom line straight and narrow as it were, there was going to be a winner. And there was going to be a loser. Swan had every determination to make himself the former and not the latter. That was the contact, signed and signatured up and everything.

So he didn't at all rationalize that he was drunk as balls already. Nope he was clearheaded as can be. He was steady. Steady as can be. Cool as a cucumber, or however that shit saying went. Swan blinked his blinkers at her and eyed that devilish grin. Something told him he should be annoyed, really annoyed. But instead he just gave her a toothy grin. Showed all his teeth and everything.

"I sure do," he agreed. "Love me an underdog that is."

Swan took a deep generous swig.

"Hm...that is an excellent question," he smirked. "I think I'd like to get my hands on a handful of credits. That'd be nice. Credits are always nice."

Drawing in a deep breath Dez finished tying her jacket around her waist as Swan spoke.

"A handful of credits?" A small laugh made its way up her throat. If only he knew how little credits she actually possessed.

"Other things are also nice." She winked, her eyes darting towards that glorious blade of his again.

She paid no mind to the number of teeth he possessed or how drunk he actually was. All of that was irrelevant at this point. All she had her eyes one was what was so beautifully attached to his belt. "Keep drinking" she thought to herself.